A Study of Attraction
by SayWhaaat
Summary: College AU: Santana is a final year social sciences student who needs participants in her study. Brittany is an undergrad who needs course credit. Brittana. Rating for language. Was a one-shot, now a more-than-one-shot.
1. Chapter 1

**A Study of Attraction**

Brittana oneshot. Rating for language.

* * *

Santana looked at the clock in the corner of her computer screen. _17:06._ Her last participant had finished later than she thought they would, but it seemed the next one was running late anyway.

She sighed and stretched her arms up, leaning away from the statistics program running numbers and syntax on her screen. This was her last participant of the week. She'd been in the lab since 8am this morning, had barely been able to make time for lunch since the program that was running the experiment task had decided to take a nap and hide her data with no explanation – thankfully all could be saved, but not without forcing Santana to go on a wild goose chase through half of the folders on its hard drive, putting her in a pretty shitty mood – and now that she was just one hour away from being able to go home and take a nap, her last damn participant wasn't even attempting punctuality.

She leaned back into the laptop and scanned over the data for her final year social science thesis. The data looked like she was expecting it to, based on the literature she'd already spent hours digging through, and since the task wasn't too complicated there weren't any particularly obscure results. But this was just the first session. All of these participants had a follow up session in two weeks, not to mention the week in between would be filled with the previous week's follow up sessions. Just thinking about the hours she would have to pull with all of these participants made her head spin. She couldn't wait to get home, collapse on her sofa and-

The sudden knock on the door made Santana flinch out of her thoughts and she turned to see a blonde girl standing in the doorway.

"Can I help you?"

"Um, I'm looking for...Santana?" the blonde girl checked the name written on her hand. "This is the memory study, right? For course credit?" The girl seemed to be asking her a question but Santana was hardly paying attention, too transfixed by the girl, focused on the explosive blue of her eyes, the gently sway of her hair, the way the muscles in her toned arms shifted underneath flawless skin as she adjusted the weight of her bag, before crossing her arms and- wait, were those _leg warmers_?

"Uh, hi- yes, that's me- my study, I mean -not me, I'm Santana. Like you said." Santana's brain seemed to catch up to the girl's questions and tried to answer all of them at once. Santana blushed as she paused, trying to keep from sounding any more of a fool, and looked away for a moment to regain some composure. All went to hell when the adorable soft giggle from the other girl reached her ears, at which point every single cell in Santana's body actually _swooned._

"Sorry I'm late, my cat was sleeping next to the door and he wouldn't move so I had to climb down the fire escape." The girl offered as she moved into the room. The explanation caused Santana's eyes to snap back to the girl's face so see whether or not she was being serious. She'd heard her fair share of sorry-I'm-late excuses from participants, but no-one had delivered one quite this ridiculous and kept a straight face at the same time.

"You couldn't have just picked him up and put him somewhere else?" Santana suggested as she stood to close the door behind her.

"Not yet. I still have some weight training to go before I can try lifting Lord Tubbington. I could pull my back if I don't properly learn the correct way to Clean and Jerk."

"Uh.." The correct way to _what now? _Santana has to take another moment to let that one sink in, before she turns around and directs the girl to the computer that runs the task, at a desk the other side of a privacy barrier. "Right. Well if you'll just take a seat...uh-"

"Brittany. Brittany S. Pierce." offers the blonde girl as she passes Santana and settles down at the desk.

"Brittany...Spierce?" Santana scoffs in disbelief. She's seriously starting to question whether this girl isn't just someone her friends sent in to wind her up. She's about five seconds away from saying as much and asking the girl to leave so she can get home early when the girl looks up at her looking mildly affronted.

"Yes. And I've had to deal with living in the shadow of Britney Spears for most of my life so I would appreciate it if you would never mention that again, please."

_Well, shit_. Santana was speechless for an entire minute, staring down at the girl – Brittany – before she decides to get this over with and murmurs a "sorry." before heading back to her desk to grab the consent form. She turns away just as Brittany replies with "I forgive you. But just because you're super hot." and actually _stumbles _over two of the five steps between where Brittany is sitting and the desk with her laptop.

She returns as gracefully as possible with the information and consent sheets. "So, uh, Brittany," she mentally kicks herself for fitting more non-verbal fillers into the last five minutes than she's ever used in her entire life. "If you could just read through both sides of this sheet, it's just some stuff about the study, and when you're done, read through these points and sign at the bottom of this side," Santana lays the sheets out on the desk in front of Brittany and leans over to point out where she needs the signature.

She realises too late that leaning in too close to Brittany – a girl whose presence alone is making her forgo coherent speech - was a complete rookie mistake, as she accidentally inhales the smell of Brittany's perfume combined with what Santana is assuming is just her natural scent plus some kind of fruity shampoo. Santana thinks that this smell might be her kryptonite, and immediately goes light-headed before letting out a small moan.

And then freezes altogether, because she actually fucking _moaned._

And there's that giggle again. As if _that's _going to bring Santana any closer to her senses.

She tries to cough it off before pulling back a bit and quietly adding "...and if you could date here," pointing meekly at the line underneath the one she told Brittany to sign on.

"I think it's a little soon to be dating, we've only just met?" Brittany turns, confused, to look Santana right in the eye. "Wait, do you ask all of your participants out? Is this part of the study?"

Santana starts laughing then. Really laughing, mainly at herself. Because she can feel the blush rising in her cheeks and knows that she's beyond words at this point and laughter is pretty much all she can do, because this girl has been in the room for all of ten minutes and Santana can already tell that she's never met_ anyone_ like Brittany. She was just not ready for this. It's completely overwhelming.

And, oh God, _she thinks I was asking her out._

Brittany continues to watch as Santana tries to cover her mouth and hold back her laughter. Laughter _at her, _because she said the wrong thing again. Brittany bites her lip as the girl in front of her turns away and leans against the wall to hold herself up as the chuckles rack her body. Brittany is shocked, really. Usually when people laugh at her they have the common decency to do it behind her back. She lets out a small sigh before muttering "doesn't matter", grabbing her bag, standing and heading for the door.

"Brittany, what-" She hears Santana choke out from behind her. As she reaches the door she turns back to cut her off. Santana's laughter dies instantly and her face drops at the hurt expression on Brittany's features.

"Sorry for wasting your time." She says flatly before pulling the door open and trying to leave with as much dignity as possible. _Try _being the operative verb. She feels something pulling on her bag that stops her in her tracks.

"Brittany, wait," Santana quickly steps forward to the door, "your bag's caught." The brunette quickly unhooks the strap from the handle, and Brittany moves to take her leave again, but finds once more something is catching the strap of her bag. She turns and looks down to find Santana's hand.

"Please let go." She says quietly. Hasn't she humiliated herself enough? But she notices the grip on the strap just tightens.

"Let me apologise." Santana pleads quietly. She really hadn't meant to upset the girl – she's not even entirely sure how she did it, honestly from having her stumble over thin air to literally _moaning, _Santana was quite sure that Brittany has had the upper hand since she walked in. "I- Wh- Look, I didn't mean to upset you in any way..." Santana tailed off as blue eyes looked straight through her.

"You were laughing at me." Brittany states, and Santana actually feels like the worst person in the entire universe right then.

"I'm so sorry – that wasn't at you, I swear. I was laughing at _me_."

"I'm not stu-...I'm not an id-..." Brittany paused and took in a deep breath, looking away for a second. "Why would something I said make you laugh at yourself. That's ridiculous." Santana has to bite her lip. Brittany looks like a sad puppy, it's several different shades of adorable but it really bothers Santana to see her like this. She realises she might actually have to confess that the blonde has been knocking her for six since she first got there.

"Because you make me nervous." Santana offers, looking pretty bashful but keeping eye contact with Brittany the entire time. They can both tell she's not lying. The corner of Brittany's mouth quirks up.

"Really?" She enquires with a glint in her eye.

Santana nods. "Absolutely." She almost whispers, her eyes never leaving Brittany's. Brittany smirks, and then quickly turns and walks over to the desk with the sheets Santana had laid out for her. She pulls a pen out from her _bra _of all places, bends over the desk and signs the consent form. She then makes to leave the room but turns back to Santana and leans in as if about to grace Santana with a secret.

"Well, when I get nervous I just imagine everyone around me is naked." Brittany pulls back and hits Santana with a wink before turning on her heel and strutting out of the lab as if this conversation had never happened.

Santana's struck dumb, and is almost too busy just watching Brittany go – which: _damn_, what a view – before remembering what they were both doing there in the first place. Santana leans out of the doorway.

"Wait, what about the study?" She calls after Brittany, who glances back over her shoulder.

"You can study me some other time," She states casually, still walking away.

"But you signed the form!" Santana can't wrap her head around what exactly Brittany is doing. The girl in question turns around to face Santana whilst - with a confident grace Santana could never possess - still walking backwards.

"Check the date." She delivers, adding one more wink – Santana wasn't ready for it, she almost collapses against the door frame – before turning back around and disappearing round a corner. And then she was gone.

Santana turns back in to the lab and walks over to her computer, muttering "check the date?" before it clicks. She turns and – more eagerly than she will ever admit – crosses over to the study computer, picking up the consent form and reading over Brittany's responses several times, before her face cracks into a smile and she almost rolls her eyes at herself. She pulls her phone out of her pocket and enters the phone number Brittany had scribbled on the 'signature' line.

**Date:** Dinner and a movie? 

* * *

A/N: Hi there, I hope you enjoyed reading this. If it wasn't obvious, I am a psychology student and this was inspired by the studies I've been working on recently (note: this has never actually happened with any of my participants!). I hope you enjoyed it, I kind of wrote it all in one sitting on a whim so when I started I didn't know how it would end. As always, this is unbeta'd so if you spot any errors feel free to let me know :-) Have a nice day!


	2. Chapter 2

**A Study Of Attraction**

**Chapter 2**

**A/N:** This follows on almost directly from the first chapter.

* * *

"Come _on." _Santana murmurs under her breath as the door to her apartment remains shut tight despite her best efforts at turning the key and bodyslamming it. "Aha!" Eventually the heavy door gives way and opens – almost in slow motion, as if it was reluctant to let her in at all. "Asshole." she calls it as she shuffles inside and closes it behind her. She starts to take her boots off.

"_What did you just call me?!_" Santana's caught so off-guard by the sharp voice that she snaps to attention, temporarily forgets she's only standing on one leg, and attempts to turn – managing an awkward pirouette before tipping over and landing on her ass. Apparently her parents had arrived to her apartment for their weekend visit earlier than planned.

She looks up indignantly at the restrained amusement on her mother's features as the short – but oh _so _intimidating – woman gazes down at her with her arms crossed. "I was talking to the door, mama." she squeaks out. Her mother just raises an eyebrow as her father comes around the corner from the kitchen.

"Hey Mija, I-" He stops next to her mother, taking one confused look at his only daughter before leaning in towards Maribel and whispering loudly. "Why is she on the floor?"

"She was talking to the door. And then she fell over." The older woman explains.

"Ah." Her father responds, raising his eyebrows in amusement and giving Santana a look that says '_we expected no less of you'. _"Well don't just sit there, Santana. Come and help with dinner." Both parents then turn back to the kitchen. Santana allows herself a small noise of dissonance before she finishes removing her boots, gets back on her feet and follows her parents.

Santana's kitchen, located in the two-bedroom apartment inside one of the oldest buildings she's ever seen in person, is just big enough for her and her roommate Mike to simultaneously throw together two separate meals – _just. _So Santana finds herself standing in the doorway tilting her head to try and get a better angle on how her mother has managed to prepare what looks to be four different dishes in her tiny kitchen at the same time, with counter space to spare and enough room for her father to be washing dishes and kitchenware at the sink without getting in her way.

Her mother looks over at her with a smile, clearly still amused at her daughter's clumsiness, and Santana rolls her eyes before heading over to give her a quick hug. "Hey, mama." she says before letting go. Immediately afterwards, she finds herself being pulled into a bear hug by her father, who laughs when she squeals because he didn't even bother to dry his hands and is getting soapy water all over her shirt. Santana squirms and flails trying to get him to let go, eventually joining in his laughter.

"Hey! Will you two mind, there isn't enough room in here for that!" Her mother scolds lightly as Carlos lets go of his daughter.

"How are things, mija?" her father asks as he gets back to washing up.

"They're good. I think." Santana scrunches her face trying to think, before shrugging and reaching out to grab a piece of chopped carrot from the counter – but never getting there as her mother swats her hand away.

"Make yourself useful and slice these." Her mother commands, pushing some apples for the dessert towards a chopping board on the spare piece of counter. "How is your experiment going?" She asks as Santana gets to work.

"It's okay. I'm still trying to get enough people to take part, but soon I can start analysing everything." Santana answers, putting the knife down to yawn into her hand and setting her mother to 'inquisition parenting' mode as she resumes her task.

"You're tired. Have you been sleeping well? Are you sick? Do you need to nap? I bet it's all that partying you think I don't know you college kids get up to. Mija, I don't mind you drinking so long as you're being responsible. And not just with the alcohol, you know, I know you don't want to hear this from your own mother but girls should carry protection too, you never know when-"

The word 'protection' whips Santana from her slight daze. "Mom!" she yelps as she attempts to stopper the motherly rambling Maribel's so intent on vocalising, ignoring the way her father's laughing so hard he's physically immobilised leaning over the sink. Her mother just turns to her without a single ounce of shame.

"_What_? Mija, I'm just thinking of your safety."

"I don't think out daughter has much use for condoms, Maribel." Her father manages to choke out once he's calmed down. Santana's eyes widen as her face turns redder than she thought possible.

To her horror, her mother carries on. "You never know, Carlos, she might-"

"Can we _please_ not have this conversation right now?" Santana spins to face her parents as the request bursts out, before quickly turning back to chopping apples. "Or ever." She adds under her breath.

They all work in silence for a minute before Santana's mother addresses her again in a much gentler tone of voice. "You know, I read something online about those 'dental dams' you can-"

"OH MY GOD." Santana drops the knife to the chopping board and covers her ears with her hands before marching out of the kitchen. Carlos laughs so hard that when she returns two minutes later wearing a clean top he's sitting on the floor practically sobbing.

* * *

"...And that's the story of how your mother got herself escorted out of Lima mall by _armed security_." Her father finishes his story with a smirk, and Santana dares to let herself collapse into hysterical laughter despite the death glare her mother is aiming back and forth between the two of them.

"I always said that putting the lingerie store next to a food court was asking for trouble." Maribel pushes out her defence between gritted teeth, which simply sends her daughter into tears.

Santana quickly calms down when she realises that being so full means she won't be able to laugh that hard for much longer without throwing up.

"So, Santana, what do you have planned for school next week?" Her mother quickly nabs the opportunity to change topic.

"Just more participants, a couple of lectures, the usual." she brushes the question off with her hand, before remembering something. "Oh, but I have been asked to cover one of my tutor's social psych lectures for her second-year students." Her father sends her an impressed grin.

"Really? That's great! Are you nervous? Is it a lot of work?"

"Nah, it's cool. She left me all of her notes and I know all of the material already. Besides, they're just second years. I can totally handle it." Santana responds before attempting to stifle another yawn which doesn't go unnoticed by her mother. Santana spots her concerned look. "I just had a long day, that's all." she quickly explains.

"Oh?"

"Yeah. I started at 8 and didn't have my last appointment until five. Who was late. And kept asking questions. And she didn't even _do _the study," Santana elaborates, letting her mind wander back to Brittany, totally unaware of the small smile working it's way onto her face. "And she was wearing leg warmers on her_ arms_, I mean, really..." Santana trails off when she notices both of her parents sharing a look. "What?" she takes a sip of water.

"Was she cute?" her mother leans in and ask mockingly as her father wears his best shit-eating grin. Santana chokes on the water. Carlos laughs. Santana eventually clears her airway.

"What!? No. I don't know. I mean, I guess. Maybe..." She splutters out, completely caught off guard. Her mother then starts laughing at her too. _Sadists, the pair of them. _

Santana just groans and drops her head to her forearms on the table. Her father starts sing-songing _'Santana's got a cru-ush'_ under his breath and her mother just laughs even harder.

* * *

Later on when they've finished dessert and have cleared away all of the dishes, her parents are getting ready to make a move back to their hotel.

"So we'll see you tomorrow, Mija?"

"Not before twelve. Please." Santana's about ready to collapse after having her nap-time hijacked by her parents.

"Don't be rude." Her mother tells her as Santana leans down slightly to let her kiss her on the cheek.

"Get some rest, Santana." Her father says with a smile as he leans in to hug her.

"And don't forget to drink plenty of water and have a balanced breakfast." Her mother slips in one final cliché nag, and Santana rolls her eyes as she waves them out of the door, her tired expression quickly turning back to one of indignation as her father turns around to mouth the words 'dental dams' at her over her mother's head just before she closes the door.

She finally shuts her apartment, grabs her bag from down by her boots where she left it and walks to her room, switching on her lamp and placing the contents onto her desk hoping to get around to some studying tomorrow. She pulls out textbooks, notepaper and her laptop, before unceremoniously dropping her bag on the ground.

After going to the bathroom and changing for bed she's just about to hit the hay – _about fucking time –_ when she notices the corner of a piece of paper sticking out from her bag. She reaches down and pulls out the sheet, glaring at it for a minute – reading glasses that are _all the way_ over the other side of the room be damned - before noticing it's the consent form for _that _particular participant. She ponders it for a minute as she slowly walks to her bed, before making a decision.

She pulls back the covers and slips into bed before grabbing her phone off the nightstand next to her. Before she can think it over too hard she quickly adds in the contact 'Brittany' and sleepily types a quick text, "Hey, it's Santana.' not bothering to proofread before she hits send. She locks her phone and passes out almost as soon as her head hits the pillow.

Across town, Brittany's phone buzzes with a text. She reaches down to read it. Her brows furrow with confusion.

'Hnng, it's Saturn.'

* * *

**A/N: **Hey there! So I got a fair few reviews asking me to write more even though it was just a one shot, so I have finally gotten around to doing that. I hope this was alright! I know a few of the reviews wanted to see the date and we'll get to that soon I swear!

The next chapter skips the rest of the weekend but I guess I just wanted to put in some context about where Santana lives and what her relationship with her parents is like and how they feel about her sexuality? This story is probably going to stay pretty lighthearted and cheesy, at least for now. Also hopefully the updates will be kind of regular but that's never usually how things go so sorry in advance!


	3. Chapter 3

**A Study of Attraction**

**Chapter 3**

The first thing Santana does before she rolls out of bed on Monday morning is check her phone. _Still nothing. _She's spent the entire weekend waiting for Brittany to reply to her text. It wasn't even that hard of a text to reply to. By this point Santana's worrying that she managed to fuck up _hello._

She sighs and makes her way into the bathroom. It takes her sleepy self a few seconds to realise that she is now standing face to face with her totally naked, muscled and very much _male _housemate. She lets out a yelp.

Her naked, muscled, male housemate snaps his attention away from where he was pulling shapes in the full-length bathroom mirror to notice Santana's offensively _horrified_ expression. "Oh- Hey Santana!" Mike greets with surprised chipperness, quickly grabbing a towel to cover his junk and blushing slightly - only slightly, because _hey, when you look this good_...

Santana spins on the spot. "Will you _please _learn how to _lock the fucking door._" She throws over her shoulder before heading towards the kitchen. "_God._"

Santana's leaning against the kitchen counter holding her coffee mug so close to her face she could probably have _snorted it _if she was that desperate, when Mike wanders in – still topless. Santana rolls her eyes. Mike notices, and makes sure to move in slow, _rippling_ motion as he reaches up for a mug to get some coffee.

"Morning, Chang." She says, sounding much more alert than she usually does at this time in the morning – apparently, 'surprise penis' is _way_ more efficient at waking her up than caffeine.

"Hi San." He greets. "Oh, by the way, I think I heard your phone ringing when I walked past your-" Santana doesn't hear the end of his sentence as she instantly dashes off towards her bedroom.

She returns a minute later holding her totally inactive phone looking mildly furious but also slightly embarrassed. "Asshole." She directs at Mike before reaching up to the cupboard to grab a bowl and the box of cereal.

Mike chuckles at Santana's expense – _as if_ he hadn't noticed the way she was checking her phone every two minutes over the weekend, clearly waiting for someone. And not just anyone, apparently, judging by the way she tore into their friend Rachel for "_wasting my fucking time_" and "_trying to fucking_ _beaver-dam me_" when she called on Sunday to ask about plans for next weekend. "Must be some chick." He says out loud, causing Santana to miss the bowl and spill cheerios across the counter as she instantly turns to glare at him.

"I don't know what you're talking about." She mutters restrainedly before reaching towards the fridge to grab the milk.

"Oh please, Santana. Yesterday you practically threw your phone across the livingroom because the text you literally _jumped over the couch_ – very impressive, by the way – to read was from _Quinn_. Seriously, who is it?"

Santana pours the milk onto her cereal before turning around to size Mike up. When she doesn't see any real threat in sharing, she sighs, picks up a spoon, takes a huge bite of cereal and then speaks around it, hoping what she says will be way too muffled to sound cheesy.

"The girl of my dreams." she blushes slightly as she chews. Mike just smiles at her adoringly.

"Aww, that's cute." Then his face turns apologetically serious. "But if she hasn't gotten back to you, is she really worth all this worrying? Maybe it was just a fluke." Mike catches the way Santana's face falls, so he tries to lighten the mood. He slips on a fake frown. "Sometimes I think I catch the girls in my dance class staring at me, and then realise they were only into my abs."

Santana snorts, still chewing her cereal but then letting her mind wander. _Was she really into me? She was flirting. And she did give me her number. I don't think she was drunk. But how hard is it to text back with 'hi'?_

Santana shrugs and swallows her mouthful. "Yeah, maybe. I should probably stop obsessing over it." she agrees. Mike gives her a sympathetic smile before patting her on the shoulder and heading out.

Santana decides that Mike really does have point: a girl who can't find time to text her back on a weekend is probably not worth this many attentional resources. She quickly wolfs down the rest of her cereal and goes to finish getting ready.

She double checks the email her tutor sent her and makes sure she has the flash drive with the presentation for the lecture she has to give, and then heads to campus to get the day over with.

* * *

Santana arrives to the lecture theatre early to set everything up. Her tutor, Holly Holiday, had asked Santana to cover for her while she had to cover for somebody else because all of her colleagues and postgrads seemed to have better things to do – and also because she knew Santana would be, quote "too stubborn to be nervous and hot enough to keep their focus". Santana was way too stubborn and sexy to argue with _that_ logic.

Santana's logging into the theatre computer when she hears a voice from the doorway ask "um...is this Holly's social psychology lecture?"

"Yeah," she turns to the students timidly waiting in the entrance and calls over. "I'm covering for Holly today." She keeps her attention on setting up the powerpoint as students begin to trickle in and by the time she's due to start most of the seats are full. She clears her throat and begins.

"Hi, I'm Santana and I'll be filling in for Holly today. This lecture is on the psychology of attraction..."

Twenty minutes later and Santana's teaching eighty second-year college students about the psychology of attraction as she just reads from the paper copy of the powerpoint she's been told to use. "Another thing that can influence who we're attracted to is actually the colour outfit they're wearing. One study found that we find people more attractive if they're wearing red."

As she speaks she casually unzips her jacket to reveal a red v-neck t-shirt – Holly had gone so far as to insist in the notes that Santana add in this little visual joke - winking up at the class as she gets wolf-whistled by a couple of people sitting further back. "Ladies, please, one at a time." She adds with mock cockiness. She gets a laugh and grins before draping her jacket over the back of her seat and continuing with the lecture.

* * *

"Okay, now you have five minutes to discuss with the person next to you how these studies could link to the evolutionary perspective we talked about earlier." She turns back to her desk to grab her water bottle as the class begins talking amongst themselves. Taking a sip of water she lets herself scan the group of students. It doesn't take her ten seconds to zone in on the pair of blue eyes staring at her intently from the middle of the lecture hall.

"_Shit._" she whispers. She's spent the entire weekend waiting on a text back from the girl and just this morning had decided to cut her losses when, _whomp, there she is._

She pulls herself together. _It's just one fucking girl, Santana. One absurdly hot girl. You can handle this._ She thinks to herself, as she misses her face and spills water over herself. Hoping none of the other students noticed, she quickly grabs at some tissues and dabs away at her top, wondering _where the fuck all of her game went_.

* * *

"So that concludes everything for today. Holly will be back for next week. If you ave any questions on this material, please don't hesitate to email _her_ about it because I _don't_ really care." She finishes with a smirk and a shrug, getting one final laugh from the class before they all start to leave.

She's shutting down the projector when Brittany approaches her.

"Santana?"

Santana looks up, trying desperately to act cool.

"Oh hey. Brittany, right?" She enquires casually, as if she hadn't caught herself at one point over the weekend considering which order to double-barrel their surnames in the event of _marriage_. Brittany nods. "Did you have a question about the lecture?" She asks professionally, so far pleased that she's managed to stay on point.

"Well, not really. I mean yeah, I guess it's about attraction, but-"

"Why didn't you text me back?" Santana utters bluntly, her face instantly matching the surprised confusion she sees on Brittany's because she had _no intention _of actually vocalising that thought.

"You texted me? When?" Brittany asks.

"Uh, on Friday. It was kinda late. I said hey. Or something." Even Santana can't totally remember what she wrote, but she's pretty sure that was the gist of it. Yep.

A lightbulb goes off above Brittany's head as she reaches to draw her phone from her pocket. "Oh, you mean this?" She asks, going through her messages to find the text she'd ignored and showing it to Santana. Whose face instantly _drops _as she scrabbles to find her own phone, opens the text thread and groans loudly, facepalming herself.

"Uh...well it was _supposed _to say hey." She offers meekly. She's not even sure how much of 'Hnng, it's Saturn' could be blamed on autocorrect and how much was just down to her being so dog-tired that she couldn't even spell her own name. Luckily, Brittany seems to find it cute, as she giggles.

"Oh, well that's good. I guess." Brittany quickly saves Santana's number to her contacts. "Because I was really hoping you'd call so that we could go on that date." Brittany discreetly rakes her eyes up and down Santana's body, but Santana totally catches it.

"Uh...Sure. Yeah." Santana tries to make a joke to easy some of the light-headedness she's feeling at that moment. "So do all of the psych studies you sign up for end up with this?"

Brittany answers honestly but with a smile. "No, just yours. Actually, I've been thinking about you all weekend."

"Oh, _really_?" Santana asks teasingly, finally starting to take charge of the conversation as she puts her arm out to lean casually against the desk, accidentally tapping some keys with her hand. Santana then lets out a cry reminiscent to that of a _wookie _as she turns to face the computer screen and realises she has effortlessly deleted the entire folder of lecture notes from Holly's flashdrive.

Brittany swiftly leans over to the keyboard and undoes whatever Santana did, restoring the files, before turning back to a dumbstruck Santana with a confident smile. "Really. So, does Wednesday night work for you?"

Santana nods dumbly.

"Great. I'll call you." The blonde says before turning on her heel and heading out of the lecture theatre. "Red is totally your colour, by the way." She states, not bothering to turn around as she takes her leave, sure that Santana heard her.

Santana grabs for a chair – she suddenly finds her knees are a lot weaker than they were a minute ago. She takes a deep breath just as her phone buzzes, and then nearly falls off her chair at Brittany's delayed reply to her initial text.

"_Saturn's nice but I'm way more into Uranus. ;)_"

* * *

**A/N**: In the last month I have written about 1000 words for the research report I'm supposed to be getting on with. In the last week I have written about 10,000 words of fanfiction. Do you see the problem here.  
But for real, I was totally overwhelmed by the amount of favourites and follows and reviews I got from the last chapter. This story now has more reviews and follows than all of my other stories combined!

I'm uploading this slightly earlier than planned firstly because it was ready, secondly to celebrate the amount of feedback I'm getting on this story and thirdly because I planned out the next chapter (or two, it might be in two parts) but I don't know when exactly I'll get around writing it up. Hopefully on schedule since there's about a third of it written already but just in case there's a delay, here's something to go on for now.  
Shameless plug for you to ignore at your leisure: if you get bored in the mean time I've finally gotten back on track with my BTVS-style glee fic in which Santana's a vampire slayer *seductive wink*

As always, thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed :)


	4. Chapter 4

**A Study of Attraction**

**Chapter 4**

Santana glares down at her phone. Her silent, motionless, locked phone.

It's now Tuesday afternoon and Brittany still hasn't called her. She's sitting in the lab tapping her fingers on the table, completely distracted by her phone even though it_ isn't even fucking doing anything_.

She's also a little stressed because she was so blind-sided and positively stupefied from Brittany asking her out on Monday that she gave three of the participants she had that afternoon the completely wrong task condition and is now supposed to be trying to find more participants, going through her data files to figure out which ones she can't use, and actually tuning in to the fact that the participant she's seeing now has been trying to get her attention for the last_ two minutes_.

"What?" She quickly turns to the annoyed freshmen.

"I said I finished. Can I have my course credit now?" He replies stroppily. She doesn't take so lightly to his tone but bites her tongue to stop herself from snapping at him as he hands over his credit log sheet for her to sign. And then she _literally _bites her tongue when her phone starts ringing.

"OW, fuck." she jolts before quickly signing and dating the sheet and slapping it into the first-year's chest as her phone continues to ring. She picks it up without looking at the screen, frantically waving one hand in front of her mouth in a useless reflex to numb the pain in her tongue as she answers the call.

"Hewwoo?" She forces out angrily, trying to speak coherently but also trying not to move her tongue.

"Uh...Are you trying to say 'hello'?" comes the curious reply. Santana's heart skips a beat at the voice, but she can't help but curse the timing. Of _course _it would be Brittany that's calling, right after Santana just tried to chew off part of her own face.

"Uhm...yah?" Santana tries to play it cool, ignoring the pain.

"Wow, you're just terrible at greeting people using your phone in _all _formats, aren't you?" Brittany observes, causing Santana to let out a laugh, which sends a few specks of blood across the desk in front of her. Santana smacks a hand to her mouth and lets out a yip of horror.

"Santana? Is everything okay?" Brittany catches onto the odd noises at the other end of the line.

"Uh...I bhit my touhnge." Santana tries to explain without moving her hand away or opening her mouth as much as possible.

Brittany giggles. "If you'd waited until tomorrow I could have bitten it for you."

Santana's about ready to respond when her mind starts thinking of other things involving both Brittany and her tongue. "_Wanky._" she whispers, completely frozen as she's overwhelmed by images of-

"Did you just say something?" Brittany asks, snapping Santana out of her daze – and none to soon, frankly, as she has another few participants to see today and this is _not the fucking time to get horny_.

"Nope, nothing. What's up?" She speaks meekly, not totally sure whether or not her tongue's still bleeding.

"I was just thinking about what we could do tomorrow," Brittany explains. _What a coincidence, _Santana's mind replies. "Any ideas?" Brittany asks.

_Well we could start out on the couch and work our way through-_

"No! Uh, I mean, not really. Anything. Whatever you want." Santana fumbles to clear her mind a bit before coming up with something more solid. "How about dinner and a movie, like you said?"

"Sounds great! What time?" Santana smiles at how genuinely interested Brittany sounds.

"Let's say...seven? Half seven?"

"Seven's good. Where should we go to eat?"

"I don't mind. Any preferences?" Santana's pretty sure Brittany could recommend _cannibalism_ and Santana would nod along and let her have her way.

"How about Italian? There's a restaurant near the multiplex that does the best lasagne I've ever had."

"Sounds great. What movie are we watching? I don't really know what's showing."

"Oh, there's a new Pixar that came out last week that I haven't seen yet!" Brittany sounds so excited that Santana's not sure she isn't being sarcastic.

"Pixar as in...the kids films?" She asks sceptically.

"Pixar as in the kids films that can make grown men _weep_." Brittany defends, her voice completely deadpan. Santana gives her the benefit of the doubt.

"Uh, okay then. What's it about?" She can't quite believe she's going to spend her first date with Brittany rolling her eyes through some kids movie -

"Household furniture and appliances who all live together. The dining table and the refrigerator fall in love."

- about, well, _that._

Santana takes a deep breath. "Sounds great!" She really does make an effort to sound enthused, but apparently Brittany isn't buying it.

"You're not into it? We could see something else?" She suggests, but the disappointment in her voice is so blatant that Santana instantly feels guilty.

"No, no! I want to see the furniture movie, I swear. Cross-commodity love stories are the best kind." She says. Brittany laughs.

"It sounds weird but I bet you anything you'll enjoy it." Brittany says. Santana's ears practically perk up at that one.

"Really? _Anything?_" She says, attempting to sound mock-seductive.

"Yep. Anything. In fact..." Brittany replies so confidently that it makes Santana a bit nervous. "How about we make a bet. If you don't enjoy it, we can do whatever you want afterwards."

"Listening..." Santana mutters, grinning smugly to herself.

Brittany giggles again, clearly aware of what Santana was thinking. "But if _I _win..." Brittany says slowly. Santana leans forward, suddenly nervous. Brittany says nothing for a moment.

"What if you win? Brittany, c'mon." Santana practically begs, Brittany's hesitation has her at the edge of her seat. Brittany _audibly_ smirks.

"If _I _win, you have to-" Santana's ripped from her conversation by a knock at the door. She starts and turns to see the next participant. She groans. _The one time they arrive early. _Brittany hears the commotion and giggles softly, "I guess you'll have to wait and see."

"Yeah." Santana sighs. The knock at the door obnoxiously repeats, louder this time. "I'm sorry, I really have to go."

"I'll call you later." Brittany says.

Santana melts slightly just hearing Brittany say so, and lets out a smitten giggle – and then chokes on it out of mortification that Brittany's making her act like a love-struck dumbass _over the fucking phone_. Santana stammers out a "Bye!" and then hangs up as quickly as possible. She puts her phone down, crosses her arms on the desk and slams her head down onto her forearms.

It clicks that Santana agreeing to go on a date with Brittany is essentially going to be Santana flailing through trying to function like a regular, socially-capable human being, and no doubt totally failing – like she usually does around Brittany, except this time she's voluntarily doing it _in public._

She lets out a long, frustrated groan into her forearms.

"Are...are you okay?" Santana hadn't noticed her next participant had stepped inside. She raises her head and turns slowly, and then proceeds to stare at him for a minute, in total silence. The participant just stands there like a deer in headlights, and then apparently decides that maybe he's not _this _desperate for course credit, as he slowly backs out of the room and closes the door behind him.

Apparently, embarrassing herself when she's talking to Brittany takes a lot out of her, so Santana finds she doesn't even have the energy to _care _about her missing participant. Santana puts her head back down and mutters profanities to herself until the next appointment shows up.

* * *

Santana's finally home. Lacking the energy to even attempt to open the stubborn front door, she just knocks pathetically and waits for Mike to open it.

Except she comes face to face with their friend Rachel, whose _aura _alone is so totally fucking obnoxious that Santana promptly decides she's not ready to face that right now. But it's too late and Rachel has already stated addressing her. Santana groans.

"Good evening, Santana! Did you lose your ke-" Santana reaches forward and pulls the door shut in _her own face _to cut off Rachel's greeting.

Despite choosing not to be in the apartment at that time, Santana's too shattered to try and find something else to do, and instead just sits herself down in the hallway with her back against the door, waiting until long after she hears Rachel's huffy footsteps disappear to even consider standing back up and tackling the door herself.

She gets to her feet and finally makes her way into the apartment, makes a mental note to put some ice on the shoulder she seems to have _completely fucking shattered _by trying to barge the door open later and then drags herself into her room, ignoring anyone else in the apartment.

* * *

Santana's in the shower, trying to work the shame-tension out of her muscles – she's pretty sure she's going to need daily professional massages if she doesn't start getting her shit together whenever she's in the presence of Brittany sometime soon. She's just starting to wash her hair when she hears her phone start ringing from where she left it in her sweats pocket on the bathroom floor. She instantly panics and sucks in a quick breath, inhaling shampoo in the process.

Choking slightly and practically falling out of the shower, Santana lands in a heap of discarded clothes and finally digs out her phone. She's short of breath when she finally picks up in a frustrated grumble, shivering slightly at the cool air.

"Yeah?" She grinds out. She moves to sit up, the slapping of her hand against the floor tile reverberating around the small room.

"Hi! Sorry, did I interrupt you?" Brittany's perky voice instantly causes Santana's brain to short-circuit.

"Um, yeah you kinda did..." Santana suddenly turns bashful, realising that she's talking to Brittany whilst completely naked. She blushes, suddenly paranoid that Brittany can _hear _nudity. She lets out a small groan as she reaches for a towel to quickly cover herself before continuing. "So what's up?"

"Uh, I was just-" Santana lets out a small squeak and gasp as she tries to stand up and almost smacks her head on the sink. The noise causes Brittany to change track. "If you were busy, I can call back when you're done? I mean, not that I know when that'll be so take your time! I mean..." Brittany's sudden loss of eloquence has Santana raising an eyebrow. _Did she know I was in the shower? _"I mean, take your time! I'll text later. Have fun! I mean that's the point but- oh God. Bye!" Brittany suddenly ends the call and Santana's left reeling trying to figure out exactly _what _she should be 'taking her time finishing' when she realises what Brittany thought she was doing. Santana actually gasps, and quickly draws the conclusion that she will _never be able to talk to Brittany ever again._

Her horror quickly turns to a smirk about the fact that the blonde's mind would actually go _there._

_I mean, just...wanky._

* * *

Brittany texts half an hour later, just as Santana's digging through her washing trying to find something clean to sleep in, just saying '_Hi?'_. Santana quickly calls her back.

"Hey." Brittany answers meekly, clearly she's still worried she's interrupting something even when this time it's Santana ringing her.

"Hey." Santana responds coolly. After letting her embarrassment over the last phone call settle, she realised that in comparison to speaking to Brittany when Brittany thinks she's getting some happy-hand-time in whilst _on the fucking phone to her_, speaking to Brittany when she's at least temporarily clothed and has nothing to be embarrassed about should be a breeze.

"Sorry to interrupt your...you..." Brittany trails off.

"Masturbating furiously?" Santana guesses, laughing. Santana suddenly feels a little brave about how nervous Brittany's being. _Tables turned, much? _"I wasn't...I was in the shower." Santana informs her.

"Ohh!" Santana can hear the realisation in her voice. "Well, you could've been doing it _in_ the shower." Brittany mutters so quietly Santana barely hears it.

"What?"

"Nothing!" Brittany says, and Santana decides to give her the benefit of the doubt and move the conversation along.

"So, about tomorrow...Meeting at seven? Do you want to get dinner first, or eat after the movie?" Santana asks.

"Santana, you're _supposed_ to get dinner first. That's why it's called 'dinner and a movie' and not the other way around." Brittany confidently assures her and Santana smiles, finding it way too cute. "Wanna meet outside the multiplex? We can buy the movie tickets first and then head to the restaurant." Brittany suggests.

"Sure."

"Awesome." Brittany replies. "So, what are you wearing?" Brittany suddenly asks and Santana's caught a little off-guard. She looks down at her outfit. _Is she seriously asking me this question?_

"Uh, a towel." She replies. Brittany laughs at the other end of the phone and Santana realises she might have missed something.

"I meant for the date. Unless that's what you meant, which would be totally fine with me." Brittany replies, turning the tables the full 180 back to Santana being the bashful dork.

Santana gulps. "Oh, um," She starts to panic, realising she hadn't actually thought about her first-date outfit. "Something red?" She guesses, causing Brittany to giggle.

"Looking forward to it." Brittany flirts. Santana swoons. "I have to go. Lord Tubbington needs to use the phone." Brittany says, sounding genuinely sad about having to leave the call, and Santana's way too caught up in it to be concerned that she's about to go on a date with a girl who apparently lets her fucking_ cat _use the telephone.

"Okay. See you tomorrow then." Santana says.

"Goodnight, Santana." Brittany replies. Neither of them hang up.

"Uh...you hang up first?" Santana facepalms herself for the cliché but it gets one last laugh out of Brittany.

"Alright. See you tomorrow!" Brittany states before hanging up.

Santana lets out a dreamy sigh, and then instantly pretends she didn't as she places her phone on her desk and starts rooting through her floordrobe to find the perfect date outfit. She grabs for the first spot of red she can find, hoping to pull out some kind of clean, hot, ass-hugging dress, only to reveal...a red towel. She lets out a groan. _Damnit._

* * *

**A/N:** Hi there. Super sorry for the delay on this, I wrote most of it a couple of weeks ago but then had writers block and had other stuff to do. Also, sorry that it's not their date yet! I thought it would be - or at least begin - in this chapter but alas nope! However the next chapter will definitely be date-based and like I say the date itself might be stretch across two chapters! Though I will warn you now I have deadlines approaching so I really have no idea how long it'll take me to get around to scribbling it all out. Sorry! As always, hope you enjoyed and thanks for reading :)


	5. Chapter 5

**A Study Of Attraction**

**Chapter 5**

Brittany hangs up the call from Santana with a smile on her face. She's definitely looking forward to their date tomorrow. _Way_ too excited about it to be concerned that Santana probably thinks she's a complete pervert (Santana still agreed to go on the date even after Brittany essentially accused her of literally being a complete wanker, so maybe Santana's into that kind of thing).

She flops down on her bed – what little part of it she can flop onto with Lord Tubbington in the middle, anyway – and lets out a wistful sigh. One that does not go unnoticed by the roommate standing by her door.

"Sounds like _someone's_ gonna get some." Puck states from the doorway, wagging his eyebrows at

her with a slight hint of pride in his voice.

Brittany giggles and rolls her eyes. "No. Well, maybe. But it's not like that." Puck takes the response as an invitation to talk and makes his way into her room, grabbing the seat at her desk.

"Dude or chick?" He asks evenly as he sits down. Brittany drags herself into a sitting position on the edge of her bed before she replies.

"Chick." she responds, slightly bashful.

Brittany's never had any problems being open about her sexuality – she likes who she likes, and if they like her back then hey, awesome. Everyone who knows is fine with it to her knowledge, including the people she's living with (the only time it's ever been an issue for the self-proclaimed "sex shark" roommate was that one time just after she first moved in when Brittany out-swam him and accidentally talked his pending one-night stand into bed while Puck was in the bathroom. Puck agreed to forgive her when Brittany agreed to give him a graphic blow-by-blow, and promised she'd try her best to never let it happen again).

But her bashfulness has nothing to do with the fact that Santana's a female and more to do with the fact that she's gorgeous. Brittany knows that looks don't matter, and her growing attraction to Santana isn't just based on looks, but also on her sharp personality, her sense of humour, her confidence, and then her random acts of complete dorkiness (like really, she's never met anyone so outstandingly clutzy, including herself). But she's got to admit, however shallow it sounds, that Santana Lopez is, in a word:

"Hot." Puck responds with a smirk, but Brittany knows he's just fronting. Puck's all talk (when he's not trying to reel in a girl or out-do the other guys, he's actually kind of sweet). Though it did take Brittany longer than she would have liked to find that out, as for the first few weeks of cohabitation Puck spent every moment they were in the same room trying to reel _her _in - much to the annoyance of their other housemate.

"What are you losers up to in here? And why wasn't I invited?" Mercedes demands from the hallway, her hands on her hips, just pretending to be offended. Brittany meets her eyes with an over-apologetic expression and pats the space on the bed next to her. Mercedes huffs out a laugh, drops her arms and heads over. She clips Puck lightly around the back of the head as she passes him - just because - before settling in between Brittany and her obese cat (which is _so_ not his fault, he's just big boned).

"Britt's got a date." Puck announces.

"Ooh, is he cute?" Mercedes is practically bouncing up and down at the opportunity for girl talk.

"_She _is pretty adorable. And hot. Hotdorable!" Brittany looks all too proud at her new lexical creation. Puck gasps in amazement looking at Brittany like her ability to mash-up words makes her cooler than Jesus. Mercedes just chuckles.

"Sure. When's the date? Who's the girl? Anyone we know? Who asked who? What are you going to wear? Is it a real date or just a means to a happy ending?" Mercedes' love of getting every detail about a situation in a single piece of dialogue was second only to her love of tater tots (the girl fucking loved her tots, okay?)

"It's tomorrow night. It's a girl who was doing a psych experiment, I gave her my number and then asked her in person anyway. I don't know, but I was thinking gloves and at least one hat, maybe shorts, definitely something stripy because stripes are awesome. And it's a _real _date." Brittany finishes proudly, confident that she covered everything. Mercedes had turned slightly pale at the mention of Brittany's outfit plans, but did her best to power through it.

A snore from behind Mercedes brought both girls' attention towards Puck, who'd dozed off at some point between the answers to "who asked who" and "what are you going to wear". Mercedes grabbed a cushion from the bed and threw it at his face, making him jerk awake, before she turned back to Brittany.

"Okay well it's getting late so I'm gonna get my snooze on. Have a nice date and if you do get lucky, _keep it down_." Mercedes said as she and Puck both stood up to leave.

Puck leaned in towards Brittany with a cheeky look on his face. "I will pay you ten dollars to ignore that last part."

"Puck!" Mercedes quickly grabbed another cushion to launch at the boy, and Puck took that as his cue for last words. Brittany just laughed watching her roommates go at each other.

"Twenty if you can get her to moan _my _name!" Puck yelled before dashing out of the room, barely dodging the barrage of cushions and other soft missiles aimed at him by the diva who'd helped herself to Brittany's socks as ammo before chasing after him.

Brittany eventually fell asleep curled around her fatdorable cat, and dreamt that on a date to a huge laboratory Santana kept tripping over thin air (and Brittany kept catching her).

* * *

**A/N: I can't apologise enough for the wait or for the fact that we're still not quite at the date yet! **I feel like such an asshole. This chapter was absolutely filler (though it was going to be at the start of another chapter but I just wanted to put something out). I thought writing from Brittany's side (rather than just San's) might help my epic writer's block. I don't think it did but I did have fun choosing her roommates.

The date is next chapter (I promise!) but every time I think of writing it I kind of freeze up so it might end up short and crappy and take a while but once it's out of the way things might go faster and if it does happen like that I'll give them another more awesome date later on, I swear! I do know where I want this story to go but I've been busy and misplaced some of my notes so bear with me!

**TL;DR: I suck, this is filler, date next chapter, might be terrible, thanks for reading!**


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